The Arrangement
by flowerpicture
Summary: Wall to wall Stendan smut. Seriously. It's nothing but porn.


**AN: Warning! Anyone with a delicate disposition when it comes to explicit smut should not read this. I don't want to offend anyone! It's really, really graphic.**

::: :::

They don't do it very often. It's a secret desire for them both, opposing ends of the spectrum: Brendan's need for complete dominance; Steven's overwhelming desire to relinquish all sexual control. Most the time whenever Brendan's skin starts to itch with the need, Steven's pride won't let him submit. And when Steven becomes overcome with his craving to give up all control, Brendan isn't in the mood to take on the responsibility. But sometimes, once every few months, their desires align and for one day, one thrilling day, it all comes together.

They reach the agreement the night before; they don't set out rules, but Steven has his safe word if it gets too much for him, if the pride that Brendan loves so intensely becomes too much to ignore and he has to stop, take back his control. Until Steven says that word—if he says it—then Brendan has free rein to use him in whatever way he wants. And Jesus, he _wants_.

Brendan prepares him before bed, because this thing starts from the moment they wake up and doesn't stop until they sleep, and there's no room for the gentle care of preparation once it begins. He has Steven on his hands and knees in bed and he feeds lube into his hole, smears it over the muscle, gets him wet and ready for the plug he presses in. Wants to keep him stretched and loose all night, ready to take Brendan's cock first thing in the morning, and Steven sighs out his tension as Brendan works in the plug and watches the rim of his hole pop around it, settle over the base. He twists it a few times, pushes on the base to rub Steven deep, but he doesn't let him feel anything close to orgasm. Steven isn't allowed to come for the next twenty-four hours unless Brendan decides he can.

Once the plug's seated firmly in place, they settle down to sleep, and it's a smooth, dreamless sleep for Brendan, his skin tingling with anticipation for the morning.

He wakes Steven at sunrise by easing the plug out of his hole and stuffing his dick in. Steven stirs and whimpers low in his throat, pushed into consciousness by the feel of Brendan's cock sliding into his depths, and Brendan gets his hands on Steven's hips to yank him up and into place. Steven gets his knees under him but keeps his chest and face plastered to the bed, still caught in a semi-conscious state, tiny moans huffing out of him as Brendan starts fucking him instantly, giving him no time to adjust. Steven is warm and relaxed around his dick, his body pliable under his hands, and he presses one hand down on the back of Steven's neck to shove him further into the mattress, thrusts his dick in and out of Steven's hole at a pace that leaves Steven breathless. His orgasm builds quickly, too early in the morning for control, and his plan here is to fill Steven with his come and then plug him up, make him go to work with it. Brendan will spend the day knowing Steven is working side by side with Douglas while he's stuffed full of Brendan's come and the thought of it makes his hips stutter, climax throbbing through his body, making him groan. He doesn't let Steven come.

He pulls out almost immediately and replaces his dick with his thumb, holding his spunk inside Steven while Steven breathes deeply into the pillow. Brendan doesn't know if he's falling back to sleep or if he's too blissed out on sensation but he doesn't care either way. He keeps his thumb wedged in Steven's hole and reaches down the side of the bed for another plug, a better plug, and his movement has Steven peering blearily over his shoulder to investigate. He notices the plug Brendan has in hand and his eyes widen, and he whispers, "No," but Brendan tells him to shush and ignores him, because "no" is not his safe word and so Steven gets no say in the matter.

The plug goes in easily, slipping into the sloppy mess of Brendan's come and Steven's stretched-out rim without resistance. On the surface the plug looks no different to any other, but this one vibrates, and it comes with a remote, and that is what has Steven worried—because he knows he has to go to work with this thing stuffed inside him, and Brendan will carry the control of the vibrations around with him all day.

Steven's heaving breaths as Brendan twists the plug, jerks it around to get it just where he wants it—pressed against his prostate from the inside, that bundle of nerves that when stimulated, makes Steven melt into a quivering mess. Brendan tests it now, finds the accompanying remote down the side of the bed and retrieves it, watches Steven as he presses the button and the thing vibrates against Steven's hole, vibrates against his prostate, and Steven's entire body undulates with it, writhing under the wave of pleasure, a long, filthy moan spilling from his lips.

"You're gonna keep this in all day," Brendan tells him, and Steven whimpers into the pillow. He presses the button again, just briefly, another shock of pleasure shooting into Steven's arse. "Go to work full up with my come, waiting for me to get bored—" He presses the button a third time to demonstrate what will happen when he gets bored today, and the sound Steven makes now is a low sob, caught in his throat, his back arching up under the onslaught. "I'm gonna make you come while you're standing next to that ex-husband of yours," he promises, and Steven groans into the pillow.

He doesn't say his safe word to get out of this plan, and Brendan thinks, _You're a dirty boy._

They walk to work together, and to an outsider there would be nothing untoward about them. They look like any other normal couple as they reach the middle of the village and Brendan kisses him goodbye. But an outsider doesn't know that Steven's got a hole full of Brendan's come right now, that he's stuffed up tight with a plug that sends shockwaves of vibrations through his hole and prostate whenever Brendan gets the urge. An outsider doesn't know that Steven is not a man of his own making today. Today he is a slave to Brendan's sexual whim, a plaything for Brendan to bend and manipulate for his own pleasure.

Brendan gets halfway through the morning before the remote in his pocket becomes too much of a temptation and he leaves his office, leaves the club, crosses over to the deli and goes inside. Steven is busy working, but there's the hint of a flush high on his cheeks that suggests every movement makes him feel the plug wedged into his hole, the sloshing of Brendan's come.

Douglas is serving customers at the food counter while Steven's at the till and Brendan approaches him, watches Steven's eyes darken by his very presence.

"Just came in for a coffee," he says, his eyes flicking down to the flush at Steven's neck.

Steven nods and turns to the coffee machine. "Right, but I can't sit with you," he says, making Brendan's drink. "Got loads to do before lunch."

"That's fine." It suits Brendan perfectly.

Steven turns back to him with a coffee in hand and puts it on the counter, and Brendan uses the opportunity to take him by surprise—slips his hand into his pocket and finds the remote, presses the button. Steven's whole body jerks suddenly and he grabs the edge of the counter, eyes widening as his lips part and he mouths, "Don't," in warning. But it's not his safe word so Brendan ignores him. He smirks and takes his coffee over to the sofa, sits to watch Steven work, to watch him come, silently and without being touched.

He doesn't press the button again until Douglas and Steven are standing together, looking at some kind of document and discussing it. Steven's midsentence when Brendan presses it, takes a sip of his coffee as he watches Steven stutter to a stop, eyes squeezing shut for a moment and cheeks reddening.

Douglas looks at him in concern, says, "You okay?" and Steven takes a couple of breaths before answering, his voice tight.

"Yeah."

He shoots Brendan a look full of venom but Brendan just sips his coffee, presses the button again, holds it down for a few seconds.

He watches in delight as Steven's knees buckle, and he grabs onto the counter for stability as his head drops forward, rolling his lips between his teeth to keep quiet. He's looking over at Brendan through his lashes, eyes pitch dark, skin burning as Brendan presses the button again, and again, and then once more, Steven's body jerking, then leaning down on his forearms on the counter, one shaky hand coming up to cover his face.

Douglas is frowning at him in concern, and he places his hand on Steven's back just as Brendan presses down hard and long on the button, knocks a groan out of Steven that no amount of composure could contain.

"Ste—"

"I'm fine, Doug," Steven all but gasps. "Just—"

Brendan presses the button again, keeps his thumb on it now, hammering the pleasure into Steven's hole and watching him fall apart while trying to remain upright and silent. Douglas is rubbing Steven's back as though trying to ease him from some mystery pain and Brendan smirks into his coffee, presses down harder on the button and lets the sound of Steven's escaping whimpers wash over him.

Steven's hunched right over the counter now and even from this far away, Brendan can see how he's shaking, whole body trembling, sweat breaking out on skin that's flushed through with burning heat.

Douglas looks over at Brendan like he can't believe he's just sitting there while his boyfriend is so obviously in apparent pain, but Brendan just raises an eyebrow at him and keeps his thumb on the button and presses it and presses it while Steven jolts against the counter and scrubs his face with his hand as if trying to claw out of his skin and then bites down on his fist, smothering his groans.

A customer comes through the door and Steven's body chooses that moment to release. He presses a hand down on his cock and practically stuffs a whole fist in his mouth, head hung low and face hidden from view as he burns red and all his breath sucks in at once and his hips and thighs jerk against the wash of ecstasy flooding his body.

Brendan readjusts his trousers against his own hardness and lets go of the remote.

He leaves without a word, leaves Steven to explain to Douglas what just happened—although he doubts Steven will go with the truth. He goes back to work, and he has some meetings with Cheryl and Mitzeee about new promotions, and as the women go into the office, leaving the door open so their voices carry and Brendan can get no escape from it, Steven comes in. It's been a few hours since Brendan had left him in a mess in the deli, although Steven looks just the same—his cheeks are flushed, and he's practically vibrating with tension, and he's clearly got himself all worked up again because he makes a beeline for Brendan sat on the sofa and climbs straight into his lap, straddling him, hands gripping tight to Brendan's shoulders.

Brendan looks at him in surprise, settles his hands on Steven's hips, watches the way Steven breathes strained breaths and stares at Brendan with desperation in his eyes.

"Do it again," Steven whispers. "Please." He rolls his hips against Brendan as if unable to stop himself, body instinctively seeking the pleasure only Brendan can give him.

Brendan digs his fingers in tighter against Steven's skin and lets the wash of arousal build in his groin.

It's not up to Steven to make demands. Not today. But Brendan is powerless to resist him when he's like this and he glances towards the office to ensure the girls are still in there and then gets the remote out of his pocket, holds it up in front of Steven. "You mean this?" he croons, and Steven's eyes burn as he looks at it, and he licks his lips, and his hips are rolling against him in pure need. He nods. "If you do this now, you don't get to come again today," Brendan warns, keeping his voice low and secretive, and he doesn't mean it, not at all, but he wants to see just how desperate Steven is now, how much he wants it.

"Yeah," Steven whispers, fingers clenching against Brendan's shoulders.

Brendan gets an arm around him and pulls him into his chest, tucks the boy right up against his body, his face buried in his neck. Smooths a hand down his back to his arse and thanks the heavens for the pliable material of tracksuit bottoms as he presses a finger into his crack and pushes against the plug, stuffs it in further.

"Keep quiet," he murmurs into Steven's ear as he whimpers, and then he presses down on the button, keeps it there, doesn't relent.

Steven writhes against him instantly, something choked and strained spilling from his throat and into the skin of Brendan's neck. He gets both arms around Brendan's shoulders and hugs them both together tightly, their bodies melded almost into one as Steven comes apart on him, hips shifting and back arching up and his breath panting and frenzied against Brendan's skin.

Brendan tucks his free hand into Steven's trousers now, into his boxers, finds the plug and pushes it in as far as it can go, presses on it rhythmically as he works the vibration without pause, makes sure it's rubbing hard and tight right over Steven's prostate.

The girls' voices get louder and nearer suddenly, as if they're about to come out of the office, and Steven lifts his head enough to breathe, "Don't stop, please don't stop," desperately into Brendan's ear and Brendan doesn't, keeps up the relentless vibration inside Steven's body and against his hole, keeps shoving the plug deeper into him. And thankfully the voices fade again, the girls distracted by something else in the office, and Steven sobs against his neck and bites down on the skin, his whole body going taut and tight like a bow before he shudders to a climax, shatters into a million pieces in Brendan's arms.

Brendan's struggling to control his own breathing when it's over, overwhelmingly aroused by the hot destruction of Steven's body against his own, the knowledge that Steven's now come twice in his clothes and must be a sticky mess by now, an uncomfortable, wet tackiness against his cock and balls. But he's got another couple of hours of work to go yet, and he's not getting cleaned up until later.

After calming Steven down with some caressing and soothing strokes down his back, he gives him a brief kiss and sends him on his way, watches in amusement as Steven struggles to make his legs work.

They walk home together a few hours later. Brendan's booked the night off specially, and he and Steven don't mention their arrangement as they walk, or what's in store for this evening—but there's the buzz of anticipation in the air, of knowing privacy brings higher rewards.

Brendan unlocks the door and lets them both in, then says, "Strip," before Steven's taken three steps through the hall. Steven shoots him a heavy-lidded look but does as he's told, removes his clothes right there in the hall until he's stood naked, wearing nothing but the plug and Brendan's come stuffed up in him.

Brendan sits on the couch and beckons Steven over. "C'mon, let's have a look," he says, then pulls on Steven until he's draped over his lap like a naughty boy awaiting a spanking.

His arse is right there in invitation and Brendan smooths his palms over the cheeks, eases Steven into relaxation, feels the slow, steady hardening of Steven's cock against his thigh. Then he parts Steven's cheeks and examines the plug, the way Steven's hole is stretched red and tight around its base. He looks battered there, overstimulated, and when Brendan grips the base and twists it, Steven sucks in a breath and lets out a long groan. He's propped up on his forearms on the couch cushion beside Brendan, his legs stretched out along the other side, feet wedged up on the arm, and his hole is right here in Brendan's lap, waiting to be abused.

He pulls the plug out, slow and careful movements, twisting it and working it back in a little a few times before pulling it out completely. By the time it's out Steven's panting soft breaths and his head is hanging low between his shoulders, and his back is a long, golden expanse of flushed skin and heat.

Brendan puts the plug to the side, notices as it glints in the light from the slickness of his come clinging to it, then he hooks both thumbs in Steven's hole and pulls it open a little, meeting no resistance, the muscle loose and ready for him. He's all wet and slick inside and Brendan swallows a moan at the sight of it, pushes a finger all the way in and rotates, feels the warm sloppiness of his own come. He works his finger in and out for a while, skin buzzing with heat as Steven starts writing against him, dick hard and pushing at his thigh. Brendan uses his free hand to smooth down to Steven's balls, gets them in a loose grip before squeezing, smirking as Steven's head and hips jerk up simultaneously, forcing his finger deeper inside.

He adds a second finger, twists them, releases Steven's balls and mutters, "Fuck back on my fingers for me."

Steven groans and gets his knees under him a little for leverage, raises up on his arms so he's no longer in contact with Brendan's thighs, his dick hanging hard and leaking into the empty space between them. Brendan gets one arm over the small of Steven's back to get him at a better angle to shove the fingers of his other hand deeper inside him, then adds pressure to get Steven to start moving. He begins slowly, rocking back gently as Brendan meets each thrust with his fingers, fucks in as Steven fucks back. When he starts picking up speed, fucking back with force, breaths punching out of him and sweat breaking out on his skin, Brendan sits there with his own dick straining against his trousers as the sounds of his come squelching out of Steven's hole fills the room, leaking over his fingers.

After a minute of it, when Steven's laboured breathing is turning into ceaseless moaning, Brendan stills Steven with his arm over his back and angles his fingers inside him, keeps Steven frozen in place and hammers relentlessly against his prostate, fingers fucking into him so quickly his arm burns with the exertion, his chest seizing as Steven cries out and arches his back and tears at the cushion beneath him. When he's pushed Steven close to breaking point, when the boy's nothing but a wreck beneath the onslaught of Brendan's ceaseless attack on his hole and his prostate, when he's screaming and his body's thrashing and he's moments from exploding all over him, Brendan gets his free hand under Steven and between his legs, bypasses his throbbing dick and instead takes his balls in a vice-like grip, cutting off his orgasm just as it tries to rocket out of him, watches the mockery of a climax tear through the boy's body without the relief of ejaculation. Steven's sobbing with it, body racking with tremors, desperate to come but Brendan's not letting him. He's saving it, and he wants Steven to feel this agonizing torture of bliss that never quite reaches the edge, keeps him on the precipice.

His body's still a shaking, shuddering mess when Brendan's shoving the plug back inside him, plugging him up again, keeping his hole stretched. He pushes Steven to the side where he immediately curls up in a ball in the corner of the couch, all his muscles twitching and his eyes still half rolled back in his head. He looks completely out of it, lost in his own head, and Brendan leaves him to it to go wash up in the bathroom and change into something more comfortable.

He settles at the table a while later, his accounts spread out before him, because he might have taken the night off but he still has work to do. Steven stays on the couch, looking more with it as he gazes mindlessly at the TV, jerking and groaning at intervals as Brendan presses the button periodically, keeping him on the edge of arousal. Eventually Steven gets up and comes over to Brendan, drapes himself over Brendan's shoulder, kisses the side of his neck. Brendan can feel him shaking, and he knows he's pushing against Steven's control, that pressing the button so often but not letting him come is taking its toll, has him too worked up and desperate.

"Brendan," Steven croons into his ear, his voice unsteady, licking around Brendan's lobe. "Please let me come."

It's as close to begging as Steven's likely to get and Brendan would feel bad for him if he wasn't getting so much pleasure from it.

He doesn't take his eyes away from the accounts before him, acts as though Steven writhing over his shoulder right now and pleading into his ear isn't affecting him in the slightest. "Keep my dick warm for me," he murmurs, reaching for a different document, "and I'll think about it."

Steven gasps in his haste to do as he's told, leaves Brendan's back and crawls under the table like a dog, kneels between Brendan's thighs, hunched over with the limited space. Brendan lifts off the chair for a moment so Steven can pull his loose trousers down and off, and he strips off his top at the same time, because there's no point being only half naked now. Once he's sat there naked, attention back on his accounts, Steven shifts forward and tucks Brendan's semi-hard dick into the wet warmth of his mouth.

This is the worst kind of torture for Steven, because there's nothing he loves more than sucking Brendan's dick. But that's not what Brendan told him to do—he told Steven to keep his dick warm, and he kneels there for long minutes with Brendan's dick settled in his mouth, unmoving. Brendan gets through the next few documents before the warmth of Steven's mouth becomes too much to ignore, radiating through his dick and settling in his gut. The effort of keeping still is making saliva pool in Steven's mouth and he swallows convulsively to get rid of it, his tongue rippling along the underside of Brendan's dick, making him harden painfully.

He forgets his accounts and pushes on the table to move it back a bit, exposing Steven kneeling between his legs, looking up at him with pleading, dark eyes.

Brendan smooths a hand through the boy's hair before gripping the back of his head, pushes down on him to get his dick further in his mouth. Steven hums around him in delight, relieved that Brendan's getting on with it now and ending his torture, hands coming up to grip onto Brendan's thighs for balance as Brendan starts guiding Steven's head up and down on his dick, sighing in exquisite pleasure as he's engulfed in wet heat over and over again, Steven's tongue rubbing desperately along the underside.

He keeps the pace steady for a while, not wanting to overwhelm the boy, before intense arousal gets the better of him and he starts fucking up into Steven's mouth, his grip on the back of his head hard and firm as he shoves his mouth down on him, delves deep into his throat, the muscle there fluttering and straining around him. Steven's groaning high and keen as if this is pleasing him more than it is Brendan, as if there's no better place for him than between Brendan's legs, swallowing his dick as Brendan fucks into him.

Brendan sucks in a breath and bares his teeth as a flood of pure pleasure rushes through his system and his toes curl, his other hand gripping the edge of the seat beneath him as he fucks up harder, bruising the boy's lips, fucking the air out of his lungs.

When he gets too close, when he can feel climax building and thrumming through his veins like an electric current, he pushes Steven away and lifts his dick, pushes Steven's face back down to his balls, doesn't need to tell Steven to suck them because he knows, devours them with his lips and his tongue and makes Brendan's eyes roll back in his head, desperate to come now, yet not wanting it to be over.

He pushes on Steven's forehead to move him away and his balls slip from Steven's mouth with a wet pop. "Eat my hole," he orders, and he shifts forward so his arse is right on the edge of the chair, lifts one foot up onto the edge of the table before him, lets his other leg hang open to the side, spreading his arse wide for Steven's tongue.

Steven goes right in, groans as he does so, soaks Brendan's hole with saliva and sucks on it, pushes in.

"Yeah…Jesus," Brendan breathes, head tipping back, hand wrapped tight around his dick to stave off orgasm. "Deeper, Steven," he moans, rolls his hips up to press against Steven's face. "Get your tongue right in there."

Steven groans again, the sound vibrating against Brendan's hole, and Brendan grits his teeth against the attack of pleasure as Steven works his tongue in, licks him out from the inside, turning Brendan into a sloppy, loose mess that has his head spinning and his veins burning and his entire body seizing up with pleasure. He gets a hand on Steven's hair and yanks him away from his hole, mutters, "Finger me," in the instant before he feeds his cock back into Steven's red and swollen mouth, pushes him down around it and lets out a long, deep groan as Steven works a finger deep into him, twists it and fucks him without pause.

Brendan's mind is a complete whitewash of pleasure. He's working on autopilot, shoving Steven's mouth up and down on his dick, his hole clenching around Steven's finger as he fucks into him, and it's with a ragged shout and all his muscles straining that he comes down Steven's throat, feels the flutter of Steven's swallows.

He can barely breathe when it's over, and he releases Steven's head, slumps his own head back so he's facing the ceiling, eyes closed as his chest heaves and his body floods with endorphins.

Steven's smoothing hands up and down Brendan's bare thighs, and there's an edge of tension in his touch, a desperation. "Can I come now?" he mutters brokenly, and when Brendan murmurs, "No," to the ceiling, Steven whimpers in beautiful agony and presses his sweat-slick forehead to Brendan's abs, breath stuttering against Brendan's skin.

It's not until Brendan's half dozing on the couch watching some crap on TV that his stomach rumbles, reminding him he's not eaten. Steven's kneeling between his legs again, gently sucking on his balls, not trying to make Brendan come again but keeping him pleasantly aroused.

"Hey," he says, putting his fingers under Steven's chin and lifting him away, then smearing the head of his dick over Steven's lips just because he can. "Think it's time for dinner."

He's about to suggest a takeaway but Steven smiles and say, "I can make some pasta?" and that sounds like heaven to Brendan right now.

He gives Steven five minutes in the kitchen before he follows him in there. Steven's still naked, an apron draped over his front to protect his delicates from any hot splashes, and his arse looks too soft and inviting for Brendan to resist.

He comes up behind Steven and removes the apron, dips his fingers into his crack, takes hold of the plug and pulls on it. "Keep cooking," he instructs, and Steven continues chopping vegetables even as his breathing strains and his hands develop a minute tremble.

Brendan eases the plug out, places it on the side by the sink before guiding his dick into Steven's hole, deep as he can go while they're both stood upright. Steven's on tiptoes to accommodate him and Brendan stays like that for a while, cock pushed inside the boy, his chest plastered to his back. He reaches around and roams his hands over Steven's chest, tweaks his nipples and digs his nails into his abs, goes lower until he can get one hand wrapped around Steven's cock and the other cupping his balls. Strokes him while he's trying to concentrate on the food, knows he's on edge from the torture of the day, strips his dick in quick, precise motions that has Steven whimpering and his hole twitching and clenching around Brendan's dick.

Steven gives up all pretence of trying to cook in the end and he reaches over a shaky hand to switch off the hob, puts the knife down, grips the edge of the counter and hangs his head as Brendan wrings pleasure from his dick, works his fist over it so quickly he's straining with it, squeezing Steven's balls with his other hand, his own dick growing painfully hard in Steven's arse. Steven's hips start rocking and Brendan can't tell if he's trying to fuck Brendan's fist or fuck back onto his dick, but either one is good and sends pleasure flooding into his veins, makes him pull away and push on Steven's shoulders, telling him, "Down," expecting him to understand.

Brendan collapses onto the floor, sitting back against a cupboard, and Steven comes down to straddle his thighs, facing away from Brendan, his back to him. His hole lowers onto Brendan's dick as Brendan feeds it into him, and once he's settled, Brendan puts his hands by his side, not touching any part of the boy, and tells him, "Fuck me hard now, Steven."

Steven does, immediately. Puts his hands on Brendan's legs for leverage and rises up until Brendan's almost released from his hole, then shoves back down in one brutal move. He repeats it, and he builds up a rhythm, and he's leaning forward just enough for Brendan to be able to see his dick appearing and disappearing into Steven's hole, swallowed up by the boy with each frenzied bounce on Brendan's lap.

It's a punishing rhythm, and sweat is breaking out on Steven's back, and his thighs are trembling with the strain of it. He's crying out with each thrust down on Brendan's cock, each time Brendan hits that place inside him that makes him come apart, and Brendan can't go much longer not touching him so he grips his hips, shoves him forward onto his hands and knees, gets his own knees under him and fucks into Steven like a man possessed, grunting and growling with the strain of it, fucking Steven so hard he's almost sliding across the floor, crying out and curling his hands into fists and almost sobbing with the attack Brendan's laying on him.

Brendan comes first, because he can't fuck into this exquisite, tight heat so harshly without losing control, and he stuffs Steven's hole with another load of his come, pushing in deep and holding there as climax rockets through his body, sets his skin alight with overwhelming pleasure that has him almost roaring.

He doesn't give himself time to ease back down: pulls out of Steven's arse while milking his dick, still shooting spunk, plasters Steven's hole with it, ropes of sticky come clinging to his rim and making it glisten. He replaces his dick with three fingers immediately, shoves them in as far as they can go and fucks the boy raw with them, reaches around to strip his dick and he's smothering Steven with so much frenzied pleasure and sensation right now that he's losing his mind, falling to pieces, sobbing and slapping his hands down on the floor and rocking his hips back in a mindless, stuttering rhythm. His body jerks and then strains tight and his spine dips right down low, his arse pointing high up, and Brendan pushes in deep and grinds down over the nub of his prostate and yanks his dick raw and sucks in a breath at the beautiful sight of Steven shattering and splintering into a thousand beautiful shards of glass beneath his hands.

Brendan realises immediately that Steven has passed out and he eases his hands off him and out of him before gently pulling him into his arms, lowering them both down to the floor and curling his body around this amazing man he gets to call his own. Steven comes back to consciousness as Brendan's soothing hands roam over him, pressing caressing kisses to the back of his neck, pushing care and love into his skin in the aftermath of their arrangement.

They stay there for a long while, breathing together in the silence, before Steven turns in his arms and looks at him with glittering, satisfied eyes, his expression speaking of pleasure, and gratitude, and love.

Brendan translates the same message back to him with a kiss.


End file.
